


What if...

by BirdofFlame



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Gen, Tags will be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29708676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdofFlame/pseuds/BirdofFlame
Summary: What if there was someone before Dick Grayson?What if the Bats had an older sister?What if she had a tiger?Wait-
Relationships: Batfamily - Relationship
Kudos: 1





	What if...

**Author's Note:**

> This is an aside I'm working on while I continue my main series. I never really understood why authors couldn't just focus on one thing. I am now working on three different fics.  
> 

Kosma crept along the edge of the street, keeping to the shadows. Even eight-year-olds knew nothing good would come of being noticed. She was on her own, and had been for the last few weeks.

After her parents hadn’t paid rent that fateful day, the landlady had come up to get it, and seemed horrified when they didn’t wake up. Kosma wasn’t sure why. They were just really tired. A bunch of other people had come in later, stomping around while Kosma hid under the bed. They took her parents away. Everyone in Crime Alley knew what that meant.

So now Kosma was on her own. She fit in with the other street kids well enough, and she had helped a couple of them out before, back then and now they taught her a few tricks that soon proved useful. She made a few friends, but it was the unspoken rule that if you got in trouble, you wouldn’t be saved at the cost of their own skin. Sometimes it was better in the gangs, but more often it was even worse, some going to the point of sabotage to rise within the ranks. Kosma freelanced with a few others, occasionally working together and splitting the profits. A six-year-old named Jason came around a few times. He was one of the kids who had a home, but was on the edge of losing it, like Kosma used to. His parents didn’t seem as nice as hers had been. 

A few months later Kosma was nine, and much scrappier than before. She’d had a couple close calls, and Goss, one of her freelancer friends, had saved her from a gang on the warpath by pulling her into a hiding spot. Kosma repaid the girl’s favor a few days later when she distracted a guy known to be part of the corrupt and not fond of kids.

Kosma, Goss, Tucker, and Lyle were planning to get together and run a job for some of the dock workers who agreed to pay them. They said it was just a shipment of packaged drinks, so they should be safe from any unfriendly retaliations. They met up on the way to the docks and chatted quietly among themselves about the ‘odd jobs’ they’d managed to get. (it was never safe to mention the less-legal stuff where someone outside of their circle could hear)

Tucker (the oldest of them) demanded half pay up front. The dock workers obliged. Kosma had an uneasy feeling. 

They were about to leave the docks with the crates when Batman dropped down. They immediately scattered, Tucker and Lyle running left and splitting while Goss and Kosma went right and did the same thing. Unfortunately, one of the ‘dockworkers’ was smarter than your average goon and snatched Kosma to use as leverage. Batman had already taken down his friends. The man held a knife at her throat, telling the Batman to back off. 

Kosma was annoyed. (afraid) She waited until the man’s concentration on the knife slipped, then simultaneously pushed his arm away and stomped on the arch of his foot. He yelped as she slipped away. Batman was quick to knock the goon out and even quicker to grab Kosma by the collar of her shirt. She squirmed, trying to get loose.

“Why were you running for Scarecrow?” Batman growled. Kosma stopped moving and gave him an incredulous look.

“No freelancer’s stupid enough to run for  _ any _ Rouge, much less one of the top ones,” she snapped. “ _ They- _ ” she jerked her head at the goons “-said it was just drinks.”

“They lied.”

“Yeah I got that, thanks.” 

Batman gave her an indecipherable look before saying, “You’ll be coming with.”

“Hell no!” Kosma snarled, renewing her struggle. “I ain’t getting dragged off!” She’d been trying to learn and keep up the other kids street accent, (her parents had wanted her to get somewhere big and trained it out of her) and he was more likely to let her go if she made herself no different from any other street rat. Batman held her out like an angry cat and started walking down an alleyway where Kosma could see his black car waiting. She hissed. 

Batman dumped her in the passenger seat before climbing in. Letting go of her was just a bit of a mistake.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_ At the Cave _

Bruce was regretting his life choices. (only a little) The second he let go of the little girl she swarmed across the car like a little  _ demon, _ getting in his way as much as inhumanly possible without getting injured. The ride back to the manor had been less than smooth. (He’d lost count of the number of near-crashes and scrapes) Pulling into the cave, the demon was now wrapped around the back of his head with her hands over his eyes. Bruce was very glad he had set the car to autopilot when he’d been able to reach the car’s screen. He reached back and pulled her off, prompting a drawn-out hiss and much squirming. Honestly, if he hadn’t been able to feel every one of them, Bruce would have thought the child had no bones. (she was worryingly thin) 

“Alfred!” he called as he stepped out onto the cave platform. “I think this might be more your expertise than mine!” 

He had dropped the Batman voice, and somewhere along the way had decided that he was keeping this little demon-girl. (He just didn’t know it yet. Alfred knows. Alfred knows everything)

“You could have sent forward a bit of a warning sir,” Alfred replied calmly as he came down the stairs with a plate of snacks. “That is usually the protocol when one brings home visitors.” Even if he watches through Bruce’s mask and listens on the comms, it’s still nice to hear his reasoning. 

“Sorry Alfred.” The girl had stopped squirming now and was looking between the two of them, staring mostly at Alfred, though Bruce wasn’t sure why. Or maybe he was, Alfred was… well, the only way to describe him was Alfred.

“You’re Batman’s dad.”

The words surprised Bruce. It  _ was _ the first thing the child had said since the car ride, not to mention she had addressed a fact Bruce had been hesitantly approaching for years now.

Alfred’s expression did not change per se, but it softened in a way only Alfred is able to express. 

“Hello young one. As you must have heard, I am Alfred. Do take your suit off Master Bruce, I think it’s time we head upstairs for the night.”

In other words, ‘I know you are prepared to reveal your identity even if you don’t, we are going to move this conversation upstairs to a more proper environment for children, and I stand by my rule of no capes in the manor’. It’s amazing what Alfred can convey in proper english sentences.

Bruce hesitantly set the girl down. She was braced to run, but Alfred put an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the stairs.

“Now, what is your name my dear? I did give you mine so it is only a fair trade.”

Bruce heard a quiet ‘Kosma’ before they were out of earshot, Alfred most likely going to feed the girl before sending her to get cleaned up. He had left the tray of snacks beside the computer for Bruce  _ after _ he had changed. He smiled slightly before stepping into the changing area tucked in the corner of the cave and taking a quick five-minute shower, after which he slipped into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a worn t-shirt. 

The stone of the cave was cold on his bare feet as Bruce made his way across the cave and up the stairs, snagging the snack try on his way by. His study was considerably warmer, the polished wood smooth and comforting in it’s lack of noticeable change. 

Things seemed to be changing a lot lately.

Bruce wandered down the hall towards the kitchen, the most likely place he would find the other two people in the house. He didn’t think he'd been down in the cave long enough for Kosma to finish eating. 

The first thing he heard was quiet voices, mostly Alfred, talking. As he got closer the sounds of clinking silverware and the brush of clothes were added in. 

Bruce stepped into the kitchen as Alfred looked up. He was sitting at the island across from Kosma, who appeared to be eating a reheated casserole. She studied him warily, but did not stop eating. Her use of a knife and fork meant she had most likely grown up in some form of household or orphanage before being abandoned on the streets.

“Ah, Master Bruce, how nice of you to join us.” Alfred said. He had a cup of tea steaming in front of him. “I was just explaining to our guest here that she will be staying with us for a little while. I believe questions can wait until morning, after a good night's rest and some food.”

“Of course.” Bruce took the now-empty snack try over to the sink, feeling Kosma’s eyes track him the entire time. “I wouldn’t want anyone to feel unwelcome.”

Kosma snorted. “You snagged me off the streets with no explanation and dragged me here, then revealed your identity. Even I have heard the name ‘Bruce Wayne’. Why am I here?” 

Bruce sat down across from her, on Alfred’s right. “You have information I can use.”

Alfred sighed without actually sighing. “What Master Bruce is trying to say is that there is a reason you were involved with Scarecrow and his trying to help you children out. You are the only one who stayed long enough for him to speak with, and now he is providing a temporary place to stay until we can figure your situation out.”

Kosma gave them a flat stare. “You-” she pointed to Bruce with her fork “Made it sound like all you needed was some answers. You-” she nodded to Alfred, notably not pointing with either knife or fork “Made it sound like we had a civil conversation and that he wants to help me.” 

Alfred sipped his tea. “While your encounter was a bit rough, Master Bruce does intend to help you, though the point is rather difficult for him to get across. While he excels at many things, emotions are not one of them.” 

Bruce winced. Alfred did have a point, but still. 

“So basically you translate for him. He says something and you say what he really means.” 

“When it comes to matters like this, yes. I find I am rather fluent at understanding him, even when it is something he doesn’t realize it himself.”

Bruce does not feel like a part of this conversation. In fact, he feels slightly attacked. They’ve joined forces. This might not have been his best idea.

The rest of the hour passes with a bit of teasing and more of Alfred’s dry comments. Bruce does join in, and by the time Alfred has decided it is time for small children to sleep, Kosma seems a bit more relaxed, a bit more sure of the fact that they will not hurt her. She seems to trust Alfred implicitly. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_ The next morning _

When Kosma enters the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, she is clean and wearing a fresh pair of clothes Alfred had magicked up. (They were jeans and a t-shirt from when Bruce was younger) In better light and with the lack of dirt, Bruce can see she has black hair and blue eyes, with a slightly darkened complexion. She is even skinnier than he’d though. 

Bruce is sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs, reading a newspaper. Alfred stands by the stove making breakfast. Kosma hovers by the doorway for a moment before Alfred coaxes her in, giving her a plate of eggs and bacon that she takes to a seat at the island. Neither of them push for her to sit at the table. She’s probably more comfortable with a bit of distance. Alfred talked with Bruce about his going to WE for work, making sure that Kosma heard the times and would know what was going on. 

When Bruce leaves, he makes sure to say goodbye to Alfred  _ and _ Kosma.

WE is the same as usual, boring and uneventful. He plays the ‘Brucie’ act, though he does tone it down a little. The day passes slowly, and Bruce is glad when he can finally head back to the Manor.

When he stepped inside, Alfred did not greet him to take his coat as was usual. Bruce smiled. Ordinarily, that would be worrying, but today they had a guest. He hung up his coat and put away his shoes before wandering down the hallways. He passed the kitchen. It was empty and clean, but smelled faintly of brownies. He passed the bedrooms, one that had a door cracked open with an almost-neatly made bed visible. It was also empty. He came to the library and heard quiet voices. He gently pushed the door open.

Alfred and Kosma were sitting at the table in the middle of the library with books of various reading levels scattered across the polished wood. Alfred was helping her decipher a  _ Doctor Seuss _ book, patiently assisting Kosma’s rusty reading skills.

Bruce entered the library quietly, but loud enough they would know he was there. Kosma’s eyes flickered over to him for a moment before returning to her book. Bruce settled at the table beside Alfred, who acknowledged him with a quiet ‘Master Bruce’. They stayed in the library until Alfred decided it was time to make dinner. They all migrated toward the kitchen, and Alfred made Kosma a proper meal of meat, rice, and greens, and gave Bruce a before-patrol snack. He wouldn’t actually leave the cave until nearing eleven o’clock, but he had research to do. He said goodnight to Kosma as Alfred herded her off to bed, then went down to the cave. Scarecrow wouldn’t catch himself. 

Things continued this way for many days, even after Scarecrow was apprehended. Bruce would come home on weekdays to find Alfred and Kosma somewhere in the house (the library, the gardens, the kitchen) with Alfred teaching or reteaching Kosma something. (he was certain they left the most innocent acts for the end of the day, once he’d caught them lockpicking over the weekend, another time it was Alfred showing her how to use the pistol he kept hidden at the Manor) About a month after she came to the Manor, Bruce asked if he could adopt her. She said yes. The legalities of it were a bit tricky to sort out, and Kosma was in a foster home for a week, but it helped that ‘Brucie’ had been cleaning up his act lately. Kosma was now officially his child. To celebrate, Bruce and Alfred took her out for ice cream. 

A month later she had ideas for her own superhero identity and asked to train in the cave. Bruce  _ did not _ want her out in the field, but it would be good for her to know how to protect herself. Besides, she’d probably grow out of it, and he told Alfred as much. Alfred sighed into his tea. 

Two months later they went to a circus show.

Bruce covered her eyes when the Graysons fell. He told her to stay with Alfred, Batman was needed for this.

Batman did not appear. Instead Kosma scrambled over the railing and hugged the surviving Grayson. Alfred and Bruce quickly followed her, Alfred standing between them and the bodies, blocking them from view while Bruce knelt to comfort the children. 

Kosma looked up at him. She was hiding Richard Grayson’s face as he cried, protecting him from the sight of his parents bodies the same as Alfred. Quietly she said: “Brother.” 

Bruce nodded. 

When paramedics and police came, Kosma refused to let go of Richard except to move to a spot outside the chaotic circus tent where they could sit down. Bruce negotiated with some of the commissioner and a child services person to foster Richard. (seeing how attached Kosma was to him probably helped)

When he walked over to where Alfred was standing next to the kids, he heard a rather odd bit of conversation. 

“-part of the Force now,  _ Star Wars _ said so,” Kosma was saying.

Richard sniffed. “What’s the force?”

“It’s the living energy of everything that Jedi can manipulate, and when things die they become part of the Force, so they’re not really gone, they just can’t talk to us anymore.”

Bruce almost smiled. They had watched the  _ Star Wars _ movies a few weeks ago, and Kosma was now watching  _ The Clone Wars _ cartoon series in the morning on weekends. She had just comforted a child in a way only another child could. An adult would have been unable to tell him his parents were anything but dead, because anything else would feel like a lie, but Kosma believed what she had seen about the Force and thought it only fair to pass on her knowledge.

Bruce knelt down beside them. “Hello Richard. I’m Bruce, and I’ve arranged for you to come home with me, Kosma, and Alfred. Is that alright with you?”

The boy sniffed again and scrubbed at his eyes before saying “Yes. And my name's Dick.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Dick.” 


End file.
